Fickle
by c00ki3
Summary: Post-Yuko Arc / Drabble /  Doumeki had always thought Watanuki was fickle, but he didn't realize just how much he had associated volatility with the boy until its absence.


Fickle. It was the first word that came to mind when Doumeki first met with Watanuki. The volatile nature was obvious in Watanuki's contrasting attitude towards Kunogi and himself, and the shorter boy's ability to change his expression in a flicker of a moment whenever the situation called for it. One second the boy was expressing his insuppressible hatred for him, and in the next blink of an eye, he was docile and obliging, or in those rare instances when the boy got saved, even thankful. Doumeki had initially found it frustrating trying to keep up with Watanuki's mutable emotions, but with time found that there was an underlying logic behind the irrationality, even if he couldn't understand it.

It was just like it was with the spirits. Even though he couldn't see them, it was irrefutable that they existed, and there was nothing he could do except to put faith in Watanuki's senses, because as evasive and fickle as the boy was, he never did lied intentionally.

Doumeki believed in the adage 'mean what you say; say what you mean'. So he never minced his words or made superfluous praise, even if it was only polite. Watanuki, on the other hand, outside of Doumeki and Yuko-san, was always unerringly courteous and mindful of others' feelings. Even with Kunogi he maintained the cheerful façade, and Doumeki wondered if the short-tempered Watanuki he saw daily or the other Watanuki who treated everyone with kindness was his real personality. Perhaps it was both, and like the reflection of a mirror, Watanuki's personality changes depending on its environment. 'But wasn't it tiring,' Doumeki thought, 'to always have to adapt to your environments just as how a chameleon changes its colors?'

Fickleness was one of the qualities Watanuki possessed that infuriated Doumeki, and yet, it was the quality Doumeki missed the most after Watanuki had assumed his role as shopkeeper, a decade after they had met. Doumeki had never really visited Yuko's shop when she was still in reign, except for the occasions in which Watanuki was involved, and now that the shop was open to him, it was like a whole new dimension to him. The Watanuki who occupied the lounge in the main room, smoking Yuko's pipe, seemed like an entirely different person to him. He was barely a superficial imitation of the previous shop owner, like the reflection of a full moon on a still lake. The boy – no, he couldn't be called that anymore – had attained many of Yuko's physical characteristics, and to a certain degree, assimilated her personality. But Yuko was fickle too, wasn't she? A different kind to be sure – Watanuki had always accused her of being _treacherous_, and even Doumeki, who didn't know her as well as Watanuki did, had to admit that she was unpredictable.

Watanuki used to be a stray cat that was never really certain of his foothold. Yuko had offered him a place in the world he could be at ease in, something Doumeki couldn't do. But now that the witch of dimensions was gone, to Doumeki's human eyes (because how could he even begin to comprehend otherwise?), Watanuki was like a pet mourning beside its master's corpse, frozen in time and trapped within the confines of the cage he has built around himself.

It wasn't Doumeki's intention to be unsympathetic or cruel, and he wondered often if Watanuki's decision had perhaps been the right one after all, but his chest constricted whenever he saw the silhouette of the ageless boy, in the long gowns he would never grow into, smoking silently against the backdrop of a moonless night. And just like before, there was nothing he could do except to put faith in Watanuki's choices, and guard the boy patiently. Because if Watanuki should fall, Doumeki still have the sight in his other eye to give, the blood in his veins, his hands, his heart, his body.

Doumeki didn't know the end of the extent he would go for the boy, or if like the horizon of the Earth, if there were one. He couldn't quite comprehend the irrationality himself. He knew that, if this was a transaction, the exchange between Watanuki and him was probably unequal.

But perhaps there are certain things that went beyond simply achieving symmetry or equilibrium; gifts that were unconditional, like friendship or love or adoration.


End file.
